


A Savory Dessert

by anaraine



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4198053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaraine/pseuds/anaraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hansel will always prefer savory tastes to sweet ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Savory Dessert

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle (Amnesty) - Golden Oldies. The 'inn' & 'wounds' prompts come from [Porn Battle XV](http://battle.oxoniensis.org/battle15prompts.html).   
>  (Posted [here at the battle](http://pbam.dreamwidth.org/2240.html?thread=63936#cmt63936), and [here at my dreamwidth](http://anaraine.dreamwidth.org/173273.html).)

Hansel wakes up alone.

He panics for a second, sharp fear slicing through his body, but as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed he pulls his stitches. He spends the next few minutes swearing loud enough that the person in the next room pounds on the wall hard enough to shake dust from the rafters, yelling at him to shut up.

He remembers now. They're holed up at a town barely large enough to have an inn, nursing recent hurts and sniffing around for their next job. Though the windows are dirty and in need of a good washing, the sunlight that manages to filter through means that it is probably closer to noon than it is to morning.

While he wants to be irritated that Gretel left without waking him, he is also grateful that he didn't have to walk around with his current complement of wounds. He could have done it, been his sister's back up, but it would have been an exercise in agony. Little hurts adding to the big ones, having to adjust his stride to be careful of stitches, standing on his feet when he'd much rather be sleeping in a bed.

The door to the room rattles, and Hansel jerks his head over in time to see Gretel walking through, the bruising around her eye doing nothing to dim the brightness of her smile.

"Good, you're up," Gretel says, and sits down on the bed next to him, opening up her bag and pulling out an apple. "The food they serve here before dinner is shit. The open market is okay, though."

Hansel takes the apple and rolls it against the sleeve of his shirt before biting into the skin. It's crisp and fragrant, sweet juices spilling over his tongue in a manner that is almost disconcerting. It's a different kind of sweetness than sugar, but he would still prefer to have savory foods than sweet ones.

"Blacksmith?" Hansel asks.

"They've got one, but I think we'll have to do all the work ourselves." Gretel's face twists in remembered disgust. "The apprentice seemed better than the master and that's not saying much."

Hansel grunts. "You want to go somewhere else?"

Gretel frowns, drumming her fingers against her knee. "Yes and no. Yes, we'd get our work done faster in a bigger town. There'd be a better chance of hearing about another witch in a more central area, too. But do I want to walk, or hell, even _ride_ the next few days to Friedberg? No. I really do not. We can make do for a couple of days."

"Alright. You need me to do anything?"

"Get better," Gretel says firmly. "Sleep. Eat. Rest. Let your leg heal before it has a chance to get infected."

Hansel frowns, but nods his head in agreement. Infected wounds are the worst thing to happen to witch hunters. They are also fairly common. Witches don't give a flying fuck about living in places that were rotten with disease, after all.

"Don't look so grumpy," Gretel says, nudging his shoulder with hers. "I'll bring up the news bulletins for you to look at later. See if there's anything in the area."

Hansel doubts it; they've picked over this area pretty well. They've had a good string of luck. Three hedge witches and a swamp one in little over a month - and that was including travel time. They could afford to lie on their backs and do nothing for a few months if they really wanted to.

Gretel leans in closer, her lips brushing against the lobe of his ear. "If you're good and stay in bed I'll let you eat me out tonight," she says, voice lowered.

Heat flashes through his body, as quick as a whip.

"You'll be good, won't you?" Gretel asks, a teasing lilt quirking her lips.

Hansel swallows. "Yeah."

◊◊◊

Hansel is _very_ good. He reads through the papers Gretel brings him, but doesn't find anything of real interest. He eats another apple and a few of the rolls Gretel had bought, as well as a full pitcher of water and a bottle of milk. He takes an inventory of their weapons that need to be sharpened or repaired, but does not leave the inn except to take a piss. (The small walk, carefully done, will help keep his muscles from stiffening up, anyways.)

When the inn, which also serves as the local bar, opens up for dinner and people start trickling in, Hansel is unaware and in their room. He's flicking through his notes, deciding what can probably be fixed in this town, and what will have to wait until they get to Friedberg and a more competent blacksmith.

"Hey," Gretel announces herself, holding a tray of hot food and a jug of ale.

"Hey," Hansel echoes, pushing back from the table to take the jug and give her room to set the tray down. There are two plates of well cooked beef and small potatoes, accompanied by a large bowl of faintly steaming vegetable soup.

They trade information about their day over dinner; Gretel found the local priest and he had agreed to assist in creating liquid for Hansel's injections. Hansel shows her the itemized list of blades that can easily be sharpened and the ammunition they should replace as soon as possible. Gretel was able to commission a few pairs of pants and some new shirts - she'll be picking them up at the end of the week. Hansel confirms that there aren't any new hunts to be chasing after in the area.

The voices downstairs have been getting steadily louder, a buzz of noise that is almost comforting in its familiarity. The plates are stacked to take down in the morning, and there is no other business that must be attended to tonight. Gretel lifts the heavy wooden plank down and bars the door.

Hansel would like to say that he hasn't been looking forward to this all day, but that would be a lie. He sits at the foot of their bed as Gretel strips out of her clothes, baring skin and bandages where she had taken injuries on their last hunt. None of them were as bad as the slice in his leg, but he plans to be careful of them all the same.

Gretel places a knee on the edge of the bed and a hand on his chest, pushing him backwards into the mattress. He goes willingly - _eagerly_ , even, drawing himself up the bed and relaxing into the cheap pillows. Gretel walks up the bed on her knees, legs spread wide enough that they don't touch skin until she's settled gently over his face, legs folded against his ears and dulling his hearing.

She smells good. Warm and alive, the musk of _female_ settling into his senses. He licks a long stripe up her cunt, and she's wet but not enough. Not that it's a problem. They don't have _all_ night, needing the noise downstairs to act as a cover, but they have long enough.

"Hansel," Gretel says, running a hand through the hair at his scalp.

Hansel isn't waiting. He presses an open mouthed kiss to her clit, his tongue flickering against her. Gretel tenses and relaxes in turns, thighs squeezing up against his head. He works his arms free and uses them to pull her closer, pressing long kisses to her cunt, tongue diving into her in long licks and gentle scrapes of teeth.

When Gretel's breath starts coming in little pants, Hansel grins and takes a deep breath before pulling her down further, his nose bumping up against her clit as he sucks and slurps and Gretel sighs and grinds against his face. He keeps at it until his lungs start to burn, and he only lifts her long enough to take a breath and continue.

He loves this. Honestly. Gretel hunched over him and her fingers tight in his hair. Her slick and his spit are dripping down his chin and painting her thighs. He can hear the judder of her breaths as she quakes around him and the pulse of her heartbeat through her cunt. Gretel isn't loud unless she's absolutely sure they're alone, but she's still making hurt little noises that he can _feel_. The way she's clutching at his tongue tells him she's getting close, so he pulls back a bit to suck at her clit and then bite, ever so gently.

Her thighs clamp so tight around his head he sees stars. She's shuddering uncontrollably, and her hand leaves his hair to brace herself against the bed as she curls forward over his head, biting hard on the heel of her other palm. Hansel dives back with enthusiasm, moving his tongue in open sweeps and pointed little thrusts, even as his jaw aches and twinges. He only has a short window of opportunity to coax a second orgasm out of her before she gets too sensitive.

Gretel tightens up like a spring above him, and Hansel moves his hand to dip two blunt fingers into her, crooking them forward and rubbing in tight little circles as he sucks hard at her clit. The air punches out of her lungs and her weight drops like an iron ball, her legs no longer capable of holding herself up. She thumps a hard fist against his shoulder and he stops, pulling his fingers free and closing his mouth. Just when air is starting to be a problem, Gretel finds enough strength to dismount and drop to the outside edge of the bed.

It's about this time that he realizes the pulse of his own blood is a little thick and angry - and realizes that he hasn't gotten off. He's a little surprised, honestly; it's not uncommon for him to come while feeling Gretel come unhinged around him.

Gretel rolls in closer to steal a kiss from his mouth, wet and sloppy as she tastes herself on his lips and runs her tongue across the roof of his mouth. With a thoughtful hum, she drops her weight on his knees to keep him from aggravating his injuries, and then helps him finish. It doesn't take long - a warm mouth and a clever tongue, letting him deep enough in her throat that when she swallows her muscles ripple around his cock? Yeah. Not long at all.

She pulls back to catch his seed in her mouth, spitting in the chamber pot before coming back to curl up next to him. They will have to get up in a moment, clean up a little and put on shirts for sleeping - as well as blow out the candles. But there is no rush.


End file.
